Learning to Live Again
by aliencatt
Summary: It was so hard to forgive Sam for leaving but now, years later, Dean is learning how to live again and perhaps love... Follow up to 'Needing More' ... Series 1...SLASH...WINCEST...FAO


Learning to Live Again

Follow up to 'Needing More' - Set Season 1

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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just a fan.

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The touch made him jump. He still could not get used to it. It was not the slap on the shoulder, or the thump to the arm. It was the soft press of fingers. Sometimes on his hip, sometimes at the small of his back. Often it was on his hand. Sam would gently touch his hand, softly grasping his fingers until Dean would turn, look down at the loosely griped hand then up at his brother's face. Then Sam would smile, his dimples showing as he waited for Dean. Waited for an acknowledgement of this new intimacy.

He would squeeze back but then let go, quickly pulling his hand away but feeling the touch long after Sam laughed lightly, seeming to find joy in just this simple action. But it was not simple.

This relationship was new and still Dean felt as if the whole world was aware and watching their every move. He found affection hard enough to convey behind a closed door and out in the world, in public, each time Sam did something like this, a part of Dean panicked, big time.

But these smiles of his brother, which he knew were only for him, made a place inside of him light up, slowly warming up the coldness that had taken up residence in the core of his being, all those years ago.

Each one of Sam's private smiles knocked out another brick in the wall that Dean had been building around his soul since that day when his brother had left for college. The day that he had left him.

It had been so hard to forgive what his brother had done, done to him. He had made him feel needed, had made him submit and had made him accept. Then he had used him and then he, just left.

The day Dean had realised that it was all for nothing, all his capitulation, allowing Sam to use him, to fuck him, had been for nought, he had become lost. He had become lost in the bottom of a whisky bottle. He had lost himself in the beds and thighs of too many women to think about. He had become lost, mouth open on numerous mattresses, his fingers grasping up the sheet as he had allowed nameless men to fuck him on the condition that they would make it hurt.

Endless fights with his father who he knew was only trying to rescue him from his own darkness. It had taken a near fatal hunt to get him to realise just how much he still had left to lose. He had spent every second by his father's side in the hospital praying he would wake up. Praying that when he did, he would not kick his ass from one state into the next for letting him get so badly hurt.

Then John had gone missing and he had come to get Sam because he knew that on his own he would not survive.

He still acted the masochist though. That was apparent. Sam was the one that had sent him on his downward spiral. Sam was the one that had taken so much from him then figuratively spat in his face. And he had come to him. Not because he needed his help looking for their Dad, but because he knew he was somehow responsible for him disappearing.

Certainly nothing had taken John Winchester. There would have been a hell of a fight and evidence left behind, if not a clue. No, John Winchester had left and it was somehow his fault. So he had gone to the one person he knew who would punish him for it. He had gone to Sam.

And just look what had happened.

It had not been his intention to cause his brother heartache and pain. He had almost been relying on the younger man to cause him that. But it had happened. Dean had forced his way into his brother's life and Sam had lost everything.

His brother should have been furious, should have beaten the crap out of him. He expected it. He deserved it but he had not. Instead Sam had turned to him for comfort thinking him the man that he had known those years ago. Thinking him still his big brother who would do anything for him, who would roll over and be a fuck toy for him. But Sam had left and on closing that door softly had managed to kill the man Dean had been.

But slowly Sam had managed to do it again, to break down his defences and make him do what he wanted. Finally it had been a fight, over Sarah of all things that had gotten Sam back in Dean's bed. Dean had been pushing his brother towards the woman and Sam had liked her. But he would not stay no matter Dean's prompting, not even for another date, another day.

Dean had picked a fight that night in the motel they had landed at. Just for the hell of it. He was fed up with waiting for seeing what Sam had planned for him next. He goaded and teased about Sam not being able to get it up for anyone never mind a beautiful woman like Sarah. That he thought he had to stay with Dean, had to mollycoddle him, baby sit him until they managed to find Dad.

He had pushed and pushed until Sam had become angry, angry enough to hit him. Right then, Sam discovered the new man his brother had become. As Dean sprawled on the floor, looking up at his towering figure above him, Sam had seen Dean's face change. Had seen the face he used to let people know he was ready to be fucked now.

The moment Sam reached forwards, concern and confusion on his face, an apology on his lips, Dean had turned hard. He had scrambled to his feet and pushed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

When he returned the next afternoon, Sam had been frantic with worry. Another fight had ensued, this time over the reek of alcohol, sex and cum. It was vicious, words hurled that would never be forgotten, could never be forgiven. Then the fists began to fly.

They had fought before but never like that. Both bloodied and raging Dean had found himself on his back, Sam straddled across his waist, fist raised for one more blow. Shielding his head with his arms Dean looked up.

Sam would never understand why he did it, and Dean had no answer no matter how many times his brother would ask. Dean had lurched up, grabbing Sam's head and kissed him, forced him into the kiss and not let up.

Both still on an adrenaline high, it too had been vicious and brutal with Dean screaming through a clenched jaw as Sam forced his dry prick inside of him. He could not stop pulling at him, could not get enough of Sam's mouth on his skin, his teeth biting him interspersed with the name calling, the cursing as Sam realised his entry was so easy due to Dean already having been fucked open by someone else.

Afterwards Sam had thrown up.

Still lying on his back on the floor where his brother had left him, his clothes torn and in disarray, Dean had felt something inside of him relax. He had dropped his arms back over his head, his legs stiffly straightening out and his whole body went limp. He felt like he could relax for the first time since Sam had abandoned him over four years ago.

They had driven for three days and nights, never stopping anywhere longer than to eat and change places. Sam had stopped asking where they were going, in which direction he was to head as Dean would just point to the road ahead and say, "That way."

There had been complete silence in the car other than the rock music and Dean was grateful for that. No more of Sam's attempted apologies that Dean would stop by telling him to "shut the fuck up". No more soulful and reproachful looks as Sam struggled not to speak to him.

The forth night and finally Dean had pulled the car in front of a decent looking motel. He had said nothing, just left his brother to stare after him as he went into the reception.

Entering the room, he immediately headed for the bathroom and did not return until he had washed away the last few thousand miles. Sam was stood in the exact centre of the room, just stood waiting for him to emerge. He had ignored him, dropping the towel from around his waist and lifting the covers, slid naked into the only bed.

By the time Sam left the bathroom Dean was beginning to panic. Lying on his front, he had placed himself in that same position Sam had first taken him all those years ago. He lay there waiting as the air in the room went completely still. There was no sound other than his own rapid shallow breaths.

Then the sound of the sheets being lifted and the mattress dipped. He had let out a sigh as Sam's so big but gentle hand covered his hip. A kiss to his shoulder, the back of his neck making him shiver. By the time Sam had nuzzled him from nape to the base of his spine, Dean was shaking.

His brother had murmured his name and pulled on his shoulder, gently encouraging him onto his back. Sam's face had been so full of wonder and concern at the tears washing Dean's cheeks. He had kissed them away then had made love to him over and over again until Dean was nothing but a boneless thing whimpering at each touch.

Now over a month later he still found it hard to accept the signs of affection, of love. But he was trying, was willing to learn to give Sam what he craved just as on occasion Sam would be willing to give him the violence he found he needed.

He opened the door to the diner and as Sam passed him to enter, Dean let his fingertips touch his brother briefly on the base of his spine.

==end==


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